


you bury me

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Fic A Day In May [12]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, DON'T GET PUT OFF BY THE TITLE, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Speaking in other languages, ficadayinmay, more "ian is a carrot" references, thank u internet for dying right as i went to post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Did you know you’d end up in love when you first met?’ Carl asked, looking up to Ian and Mickey as he stabbed the yolk of his egg.<br/>Mickey shrugged. ‘Never really thought about it.’<br/>‘Koi no yokan.’ Ian murmured, smiling slightly as he piled bacon on top of his egg and toast and cut through. ‘I had a feeling.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	you bury me

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm super casually combining my love of languages, writing and Gallavich by doing this. (There are explanations for each of the words, so idk, just wait for those.)

It was Saturday morning.

Ian and Mickey were having breakfast with the Gallaghers (Eggs Benedict again – everyone was starting to get a bit sick of it, but no one wanted to tell Debbie because they sure as hell weren’t going to get up and make breakfast themselves) and Carl was questioning the pair about their love life. Thankfully, his line of inquiry wasn’t “Where do the gay wieners go?” today.

‘Did you know you’d end up in love when you first met?’ Carl asked, looking up to Ian and Mickey as he stabbed the yolk of his egg.

Mickey shrugged. ‘Never really thought about it.’

‘Koi no yokan.’ Ian murmured, smiling slightly as he piled bacon on top of his egg and toast and cut through. ‘I had a feeling.’

‘What’d you say?’ Mickey asked, grabbing the bowl of Hollandaise and dumping more on his plate.

‘Hmm? Nothing.’ Ian replied, eyes flicking up to Mickey, still with that weird smile on his face.

‘Okay...’ Carl stuffed a bit of toast in his mouth, and apparently decided his questioning was over.

‘How does it feel falling in love?’ Debbie asked, coming to sit at the table, with her own breakfast nicely arranged on her plate. She frowned at the near empty bowl of sauce and then at Mickey, who had spread it liberally across his food. ‘Because I think I love Matty.’

‘Loving someone and being _in_ love with someone are two very different things, Debs.’ Ian said, waving his fork as part of his gesticulations and nearly stabbing Mickey in the eye.

‘Watch the fork, Firecrotch.’ Mickey said, ducking out of the way and swatting Ian’s arm away.

Ian rolled his eyes and said, ‘Do you think you love him, or do you think you’re in love with him?’

‘In love.’ Debbie said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t want to play video games with him, I want to have sex with him.’

Mickey nearly choked on his food, and Ian thumped him on the back, before answering, ‘Well, we do both, don’t we, Mick?’

‘Yeah, but we’re dudes.’ Mickey said, clearing his throat. ‘If you wanna fuck him, then tell him.’

‘I _did_.’ Debbie said, exasperated. ‘He told me to wait until I was sixteen.’

‘That doesn’t seem too bad. How old is this guy?’

Debbie blushed. ‘He’s twenty.’

‘He’s twenty _now_ , or when you’ll be sixteen?’ Ian asked, narrowing his eyes.

‘Uh... now.’

At Ian’s scandalised look, Mickey punched him in the arm. ‘When you were fifteen, you were fucking Kash. Don’t get pissy at her for fucking someone only a _few_ years older than her.’

‘Exactly.’ Debbie smiled, handing Mickey the last of the Hollandaise as a thank you gift. ‘Seriously, what does it feel like to fall in love?’

‘Pretty fuckin’ great.’ Mickey said, shrugging.

‘Forelsket.’ Ian said, looking over the table to Debbie. When she frowned, Ian said, ‘Look it up later.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey and Ian were lying in bed. They were too tired for sex, or _anything_ really, and all they wanted to do was sleep. However, both were unwilling to let go of consciousness quite yet, and so they were lying in a heap of tangled limbs and talking about random things. Mickey was lying with his head on Ian’s chest, perfectly happy to have part of their conversation blocked out by the strong, steady beat beneath his ear.

Mickey noticed after about five minutes that Ian’s hand was in his hair. ‘What are you doin’, Firecrotch?’ he murmured.

‘Cafuné.’ Ian said, softly moving his fingers through Mickey’s short black strands.

‘You what?’ Mickey asked, tilting his head slightly up towards Ian.

 ‘Don’t worry.’ Ian smiled. ‘It’s a shame Heath Ledger died.’

‘Mm.’ Mickey moved his head back into range of Ian’s hand. ‘He was pretty hot.’

 

* * *

 

‘I don’t really understand you guys.’ Mandy said, flopping down beside Ian on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her hands. They had decided to watch a movie, and seeing as Mickey was at the rub n tug for a while, they had taken advantage of the opportunity to watch something he didn’t like. For that reason, _Pitch Perfect_ was on the screen.

‘What do you mean?’ Ian asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn and pressing play.

‘You look at each other all the time... like you want to do something, but you won’t because you’re afraid the other will run away.’ Mandy glanced at Ian as she chewed a piece of popcorn slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’re waiting to start, but there’s something, and it’s taking forever for you two to find your damn balls and actually _do_ it.’

Ian rolled his eyes and threw a piece of popcorn at her. ‘There’s a word for that. Kind of. Not exactly. But kind of.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Mamihlapinatapei.’

 

* * *

 

‘So, we never really asked why you joined the army.’ Fiona said at dinner one night.

‘Did you not hear that story?’ Ian asked, pushing half his mashed potatoes onto Mickey’s plate, and taking his beans in its place.

‘Nope.’ Fiona frowned, watching their little exchange of food, as Mickey gave Ian a few carrots as well, taking part of his meatloaf.

Ian knocked his shoulder lightly against Mickey’s as he poured gravy over his food. ‘La douleur exquise.’

‘In English?’ Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ian shrugged and gave her the same answer he’d given to Carl, Debbie and Lip. ‘Relationship issues.’

‘Relationship issues.’ Fiona glanced accusingly at Mickey. ‘Wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it.’

‘Why do people always think I did something?’ Mickey asked, pouring gravy onto Ian’s food too.

‘ _Did_ you?’

Ian sighed heavily and took the gravy from Mickey to pass it along to Carl. ‘It _involved_ Mickey, but it wasn’t exactly _directly_ his fault.’

Fiona picked up her knife, and with the look on her face, Mickey prepared himself to be stabbed. Instead of flinging her knife at him, Fiona pointed it between him and Ian. ‘How long have you two been carrying on together?’

They exchanged a brief, thoughtful look. ‘A few years?’ Ian said, mopping up some gravy on a bit of meatloaf.

‘ _Years?_ ’

‘Mm.’ Mickey nodded. ‘It started out just as a fuck buddy sort of thing.’

‘Not really.’ Ian said. ‘More than fuck buddy, less than what we are now.’

‘Something like that.’

‘That’s great and all, but can we not discuss where you two shove your dicks?’ Lip said loudly, arriving late to dinner with Liam.

‘She asked.’ Mickey shrugged.

‘I did.’ Fiona admitted. ‘So I suppose you’re pretty happy Ian’s back then?’

‘I guess.’ Mickey said, directing his attention back to his food, effectively ending the conversation.

‘Retrouvailles.’ Ian whispered, staring at his plate.

‘You’re not speaking to the food, are you?’ Mickey asked, bumping their knees together under the table.

‘What? No.’ Ian grinned. ‘I’m not that crazy... yet.’

‘Yeah, or high. You did that once.’

‘Did what?’

‘Told a carrot you loved it. Called it your “blood brother” or somethin’.’

Ian snickered. ‘Was that the time that we...’

‘For fuck’s sake, not at the table.’ Lip groaned. ‘And not around small children.’

‘What aren’t they doing around small children?’ Debbie asked, sounding offended at being included in the group of said minors.

‘You’re better off not knowing, Debs.’ Fiona said, patting her shoulder.

Debbie didn’t say anything, but she did look between Ian and Mickey and then back to her carrots again.

 

* * *

 

When Ian and Mickey went to bed, and curled up in the middle of the bed, Mickey looked up at Ian and said, ‘What have you been saying all week?’

‘Hmm?’ Ian asked, pausing his drawing of spirals on Mickey’s back.

‘All week. You’ve been muttering things under your breath, and it sounds weird.’

‘I’m not saying anything.’

‘Liar.’

Ian rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘I wanna know what you’re sayin’.’ Mickey said, poking Ian’s stomach.

‘Nothing bad, promise.’

Mickey sighed, realising Ian wasn’t going to say anything about his new hobby. ‘Fine, don’t tell me.’

‘Fine.’

Mickey rolled over and pulled Ian’s arm, getting him to come closer.

Ian waited for Mickey’s breathing to get slow and consistent before murmuring, ‘Je t’aime.’ and kissing his hair with a sigh.

Mickey heard.

 

* * *

 

‘Do you seriously love Mickey Milkovich?’ Lip asked incredulously. He and Ian were standing in the kitchen, each with a mug of coffee in hand.

‘Yeah, I do.’ Ian smiled.

‘Like, legitimately love _him_ , not just that he gives you a place to stick it in.’

‘Well that’s definitely a redeeming quality...’ Ian mused. ‘But yes, I actually love him. You people need to stop questioning it.’

‘We _question_ because we have no idea how the fuck it happened.’

‘Hah.’ Ian rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t need to.’

‘Give me one word to describe what the hell is going on with you and Mickey.’

‘Yeah, Firecrotch. Give the man a word.’ Mickey said, appearing down the stairs and stealing Ian’s coffee.

Ian smiled . ‘Ya’aburnee.’

Mickey blinked and looked at Lip who seemed equally as confused. ‘You wanna try that again, and this time say it in English?’ Mickey asked, raising his eyebrows.

‘Ya’aburnee.’ Ian repeated. ‘It’s Arabic.’

‘And it means what?’ Mickey asked, grimacing at the amount of sugar in Ian’s coffee and pouring his own mug.

‘Basically, I hope I die first so I never have to live a day without you.’

Lip pushed himself off the bench and put his mug in the sink. ‘I’m off. When the lovey-dovey couple shit comes out, it’s my cue to leave.’ Neither Ian nor Mickey acknowledged him as he left through the backdoor.

Mickey bit his lip and poured coffee calmly. ‘So that’s what you’ve been doing.’

‘Hmm?’ Ian asked innocently.

‘You been speaking in fuckin’ nine hundred different languages, huh, Firecrotch?’

Ian grinned. ‘Maybe.’

‘Okay, so tell me what you’ve been saying then.’

‘Why?’

‘’Cause I wanna know.’

Ian sighed. ‘Stay here.’ he said, putting his mug down and running upstairs. He arrived back a few seconds later, holding a slightly crumpled piece of paper. He held it out to Mickey. ‘Here.’

Mickey eyed the paper cautiously as he took it from Ian to read it.

 

**_Cafuné_ ** _(Brazilian Portugese):  The act of tenderly running your fingers through someone’s hair_

**_Forelsket_ ** _(Norwegian): That euphoria when you first fall in love_

**_Koi no yokan_ ** _(Japanese): The sense upon first meeting someone that you’re gonna fall in love_

**_La Douleur Exquise_ ** _(French): Heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have_

**_Mamihlapinatapai_ ** _(Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego): That look between two people when both want to do something, but neither want to start it_

**_Retrouvailles_ ** _(Also French): Happiness of meeting again after a long time_

**_Ya’aburnee_ ** _(Arabic): “You Bury Me” – declaration of your hope you die before someone else because of how difficult it would be to live without them_

Mickey looked up in confusion when he finished the list. ‘I don’t get it.’

Ian smiled and pulled Mickey towards him. ‘I love you somuch, that I couldn’t find a way to express it in English properly, you know? So I looked up other words for it that don’t translate directly, and got those. And, you know, picked up a few other ones too.’

Mickey nodded. ‘And you couldn’t just tell me that in the first place?’

‘Nope, because I thought you’d freak out and run away.’

‘Freak out why?’

‘Because I thought you might think I was getting too clingy.’

‘I like it.’ Mickey laughed and rested his head on Ian’s chest. ‘What about what you said last night?’

‘Last night when?’ Ian asked, resting his hands on Mickey’s waist.

‘When you thought I was asleep.’

‘Je t’aime?’

‘Yeah, that.’

‘French. Means “I love you”.’ Ian smiled.

Mickey looked up at Ian, eyebrow raised accusingly. ‘Shouldn’t that be on the list?’

‘Nope. I just knew it.’

Mickey laughed. ‘I have a word of my own to add.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Ian asked, raising his own eyebrows at Mickey.

‘Yeah.’

‘What do you want to add?’

Mickey stood up onto his tiptoes and kissed Ian lightly. ‘Jebač.’

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

_If there are problems with the translations (or you want more detailed descriptions of the word??? idk) then you can go[here](http://bigthink.com/harpys-review/the-top-10-relationship-words-that-arent-translatable-into-english) for more information and blame them if translations are wrong. (Not me.) (Though do tell me so I can edit it so they're correct.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm not explaining in the actual fic, here's a short explanation about "Jebač" that I found.
> 
> Technically, jebač has an extremely literally translation: “fucker.” However, while in English this is a swearword, for Slovaks (who according to my personal observations must have one of the highest rates of swearwords per capita in the world) it’s a compliment.
> 
> So, uh, yeah.


End file.
